


The shift

by keyrousse



Series: Healing (Broadchurch) [2]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: -Ish, Alec Hardy Whump, Angst, Car Accident, Case Fic, Ellie Miller (Broadchurch) Needs a Hug, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, No beta we fall like Crowley, Post-Season/Series 03, Slow Burn, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23786644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyrousse/pseuds/keyrousse
Summary: Alec gets hurt as a consequence of his last case. Ellie has to help him during his recovery and discovers a new side of him in the process.
Relationships: Alec Hardy & Ellie Miller, Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Series: Healing (Broadchurch) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687639
Comments: 123
Kudos: 268





	1. Transparent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really shouldn’t have mentioned the h/c continuation of [“The Runner”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23446951), because then people demanded it, and then I started to hate the idea I had at the time. But hey, every fandom suffers from not enough h/c and has this one perfect whumpee, so I changed the idea to the one I hated less and finished the whole story.  
> So, it’s a direct continuation of “The runner”, but due to a different mood I’ve decided to separate the stories.  
> This fic wasn’t beta-ed (and I know it should have been) and English is still not my native language, so be gentle if it’s weird. ;)

_Hardy is pretty transparent,_ Ellie thinks, watching his slim back as he leans against the railing on the upper floor balcony of the station, head bowed, fingers interlocked, ankles crossed. While he can maintain the dead look on his face when he’s questioning potential witnesses, his overall reaction to the case is obvious. She knows when he’s tired, frustrated or angry. She knows how much he hates the thing he just had to solve. With Trish Winterman case he was disgusted and she remembers thinking that he might go and puke. He didn’t, but he looked close to that.

She remembers him isolating himself for some time after that one. ‘Men are not like that’, he insisted then, she replied with ‘I hope so’ and then he refused to go to a pub with her. She wasn’t surprised, he never went to a pub, but then he was… reluctant. He made her coffee in the CID kitchen, as usual, but he didn’t linger by her desk, didn’t ask about Tom, and he looked like he was doing something he didn’t want to do. It took her a week to realise he didn’t want to push another man - himself - in her vicinity.

She wanted to scream at him. She knows he’s not Like That.

It took a couple of tea mugs delivered into his office in the morning and soft questions about Daisy to get him back. He drank the tea, answered the questions, his face lightening up at the mention of his daughter, and then they shifted back towards the more familiar territory.

She’s still getting used to the version of him outside work, still learning about Alec Hardy with no longer broken heart, Alec the dad, Alec the friend, even Alec the morning jogger. She’s finding out his version of normal, although she’s not even sure if **he** considers it normal. She has no idea how big change he’s going through.

She likes it. It’s like stripping layers off a very tall, slim and grumpy onion.

She’s also well aware that he lets her see it.

And now she watches him, drained and frustrated because of their latest case. Somehow this one - a small criminal group trying to set up a drug trading operation in the area, how weird it may seem with only small towns around - seemed more painful for him than Danny’s case. He’s about as disgusted as he was during the Winterman case; she figures he just can’t deal with asshole people.

She wants to touch that slim back in the dark blue suit jacket, taut across his shoulders, she’s pulled like a magnet. Before she can move, he straightens abruptly, fixes his tie in that nervous tic of his, murmurs ‘I need a run’ while not looking at her and leaves her there alone.

She smiles. He can’t smoke, he doesn’t drink, but now he can run. It’s a good outlet, the healthiest of the three.

She sees him an hour later doing rounds on the cliffs, faster and somewhat angrier than usual. Knowing him, tomorrow there will be no sign of that frustration over assholes who don’t care that two kids - one of them Daisy’s classmate - almost died of drug overdose.

* * *

Three weeks later, in the morning of a mid-September Wednesday, she can’t believe they thought that case was over as she watches Hardy lying unconscious, broken and bruised in the hospital bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments feed the writer ;) (although this story is finished, so this time it may be about me posting the next chapter soon? 😈)


	2. The accident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you, Broadchurch fandom. You’ve blown my mind with your response and I really hope this fic won’t disappoint.  
> Let’s do some damage to Alec Hardy now. 😈

It started two weeks after the end of their drug case. First, Hardy asked Ellie about any suspicious activity, especially around her house. When she denied having noticed anything, he asked her to be careful. Beth got involved in that, too, as she likes to jog and since she'd noticed when Hardy first started his morning runs, she could also keep her eyes wide open for other things. There was nothing, though.

Hardy didn't want to talk about it and it was frustrating, because while Ellie could see something was happening, he was his usual stubborn self and wouldn't tell her anything.

Two days later Tom behaved strangely during dinner, but he quickly admitted that DI Hardy had come by earlier, asking Tom to help him to set up a sport camera.

“It was that tiny one you can wear on a headband,” the boy said. “Pretty advanced, too, I helped him plug it to his phone.”

“Did he tell you why he needed it?” Ellie asked.

“No, and he asked me to not tell you, but, you know,” Tom shrugged.

Oh, Ellie knew. When she got a scent of something happening, there was little that could stop her from getting to the truth. That ‘little’ was usually Hardy when it involved him and it was frustrating.

“I don’t know why I've always thought he’s helpless with technology, he handled the camera pretty well after it was set up,” Tom added. Ellie raised her eyebrow at him.  _ Probably because you saw that his arm becomes a little too short for him, _ she thought, smiling at the memory of the face Alec tended to make when he tried to read his phone screen without glasses.

The next day Alec looked uncomfortable around her, but when she didn't mention his visit to Tom, he relaxed. It was kind of childish and she wanted to laugh at how easy he was to read sometimes.

The third sign that something was going on was Daisy asking Ellie directly what was wrong with her dad, who was tense, secretive and worrying about her more than usual. Daisy knew Ellie was the best source of information about Alec, but this time even she couldn't help the girl. Ellie lost her patience then and went to ambush Hardy in his office, closing the door and blocking his potential escape path.

“Will you tell me what’s happening?” she barked at him. He looked at her over the rims of his glasses, as usual engrossed in paperwork.

“Cases,” he replied with a gesture at the papers and Ellie rolled her eyes, leaned her back against the door.

“You’re hiding something. I know it, you know it, even Tom and Daisy noticed!”

Hardy flinched at the mention of his daughter and muttered a curse. He took off his glasses and leaned back in his chair.

“Just… keep your eyes open, alright?” he said. “Make sure you’re not followed, or that someone doesn’t watch your house.”

She pursed her lips: she knew already that there was nothing.

“Why?” she asked tersely.

“I have reasons to believe our last drug case is not exactly over,” he admitted and she felt a cold chill run down her spine.

That drug organisation, led by two people now in their custody, had had an ambition to become something akin to a mafia; Alec and Ellie had suspected it was a part of a larger group, but after putting away the main culprits they hadn't found any further connections. Their case had been solid, as they liked it, but the group had had way too much funding to be separate from anything larger.

“You think they’re following us?” Ellie asked through clenched throat.

“Well, me, at least,” Alec admitted and for once it’s hard to see how bothered he was by it. “I’m thinking about sending Daisy away to her mother,” he added and Ellie knew it’s not like a scheduled weekend. She couldn't stand it anymore; she staggered to the couch and sat on it heavily.

“Have you told the Chief Super?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Without solid proof there’s little we can do,” he said and she hated him for stating the obvious. “Just… be careful if you notice anything.”

“You should’ve told me when it started,” she snarled, her hands clenched into fists. She suspected he would have mentioned it earlier if he had any reason to believe she had been watched, too. 

“I wasn’t sure myself!” he argued. “I’m telling you now.”

Now the sport camera made sense. A recording device to be worn on a headband!

“And you still jog in the mornings?” she fumed, incredulous.

He shrugged.

“Ugh,” she rolled her eyes and stood up. “Be careful yourself,” she ordered, pointing her finger at him and left his office.

The next morning she was woken up around six by the sound of screeching car tires in the street not far from Ellie’s home. She didn't think much about it and immediately fell asleep for another hour before her alarm.

When she stepped into the station two hours later, she was met with a stunned silence of her colleagues, who stared at her, eyes wide, faces pale.

“You don’t know?” someone asked.

“Don’t know what?”

And here she is, standing at the door of Alec Hardy’s hospital room, a paper cup of coffee clutched in one hand, eyes full of tears, the image of him blurry.

Car accident, the doctor says. It was a hit-and-run, no direct witnesses, he’s lucky to be alive. He probably jumped aside before he was hit, but they got him in the leg anyway and he landed on the curb awkwardly.

Left leg, right forearm and four ribs broken. Skull fracture and a severe concussion. They’ll be diagnosing for intracranial bleeding, there’s a high possibility of that. At least his pacemaker is working properly.

“What a fucking knob,” she mutters and quickly wipes her tears away, taking a good look at him for the first time, and it’s about as shocking as she expected.

His pale face is scratched, cheeks sunken, one eye looks like it was hit with a fist; his hands lie unmoving on the covers, as if the short time he’s spent in the hospital already depleted him of life energy. For such a tall person he seems tiny here. There’s a thick dressing on his forehead, held in place by bandages wrapped around his head, so she can’t even see his hair. He has casts on his broken limbs. An oxygen tube runs under his nose and the IV provides him with painkillers. His breathing is steady, albeit slightly laboured due to the broken ribs; oxygen saturation is within norm, ECG monitor shows a steady pulse and a normal blood pressure.

It’s still far worse than his previous two hospital visits she witnessed, and she’s almost sure that he was hit the moment those tire screech woke her up. She’s probably wrong: she has no idea where he was found, she didn’t pass the place of the tire screech on her way to work, and she’s sure she’d notice if the services like the police or an ambulance team were working near her home.

She has to shake herself. Him getting a pacemaker put him in more of a risk of death, right?

Then she remembers the concussion and the possibility of intracranial bleeding.

She bites on her lower lip just to stop herself from making any embarrassing sounds.

A nurse pushes a plastic bag into her hands. Inside are Hardy’s running clothes, his phone with a broken screen and a black headband with the tiny sport camera.

Ellie nods absently and clutches the bag in the hand that isn’t occupied by her coffee.

“Damn, I’ll have to call Daisy,” she murmurs and wonders whether the girl didn’t notice her dad wasn’t back home for breakfast. She groans. “Please let me know if anything changes?” she asks the nurse and the woman just nods.

She straightens. The initial shock abated, now she has work to do.

* * *

Daisy doesn’t pick up her phone. Ellie sends her a text message, asking to call her the moment she can.

Ellie gives Hardy’s phone and the camera to Nish, asking to send her everything he can find on them. She also pulls all CCTV recordings from the area where Hardy was found, which wasn’t near her home. She can’t be really thankful for that: sure, she wasn’t a far witness of what was probably a murder attempt of a police officer, but he was found in the outskirts of the town, where the CCTV coverage is quite sparse in general, with none directly covering the area of the accident. When they’re done processing the scene - and there was barely anything to be found - SOCO takes over Hardy’s clothes: they hope to find traces of whatever hit him.

Katie Harford’s already walking the streets looking for witnesses. Ellie asks for a list of the outside people Barrett Willis and Royce Clements, their drug traders, called or talked to after their arrest, and then has to wait for the CCTV footage and the results from Nish and SOCO; those first moments before the data inflow are the most frustrating.

Chief Superintendent doesn’t argue who should investigate the whole thing. Theoretically they should call for a backup from the outside, but knowing their luck there is a high risk they would end up with people from Sandbrook and Ellie doesn’t want to work with Alec’s ex-wife. Ellie has to tread carefully to not compromise the case, but the fact that it’s them solving it motivates them to finish it quickly and properly.

It’s still painful. The team is as shaken as she is. Alec isn’t very popular as a human being, but he’s deeply respected as a detective and their leader. No-one is talking about finally getting rid of him, the sight of his empty office is painful.

The news of Hardy’s accident spreads fast across the town. Ellie’s surprised when Beth Latimer brings what turns up being a useful information: since she, like Hardy, likes to jog early in the morning, for some reason she was looking out for him and was even allowed to accompany him a couple of times, she knows his routes more-or-less, so she can draw them on the map. She didn’t see him this morning, though, but she’s still helpful. Ellie uses the information to pull more CCTV recordings from along his routes.

Finally, the information starts to flow in, most notably the recordings. Ellie spends the rest of the morning watching hours of footage. The rest of the team doesn’t disturb her.

When Katie Harford returns, she’s surprised to learn it’s not her case anymore. She argues against Ellie taking over, claiming she answered the phone with the news from the hospital and she already did some leg work. Ellie uses the ‘more experienced’ argument without remorse and doesn’t let her argue any further, firmly asking about the results of her ‘walk’.

Katie huffs and grumbles, but answers the question.

There are only four houses around the place of the accident. Only one man, suffering from insomnia, is a very valuable witness: he remembered a car - a compact red Ford, probably a Fiesta, new-ish looking, probably rented, he couldn't recall the plates - parked on the pavement down the street since yesterday evening. He didn’t see how many people were inside, the car seemed abandoned most of the time. Around five in the morning the car engine was started and the Ford drove away, then there was a sound of a car hitting something, then the Ford drove by after six, returning from wherever it went to, with a visible dent in the hood now. There was no sudden braking or anything like this. Someone simply hit Hardy, left him there and drove away. The man had went out to check what had happened; he had been the one who had found Hardy lying on the pavement, unconscious.

“But why would they wait for him there if he has four other jogging routes?” Ellie murmurs and goes to the map with Hardy’s routes. The route he chose today leads close to her home. He was checking out her home, probably regularly enough to be noticed by whoever decided to run him over. Ellie starts to wonder whether that tire screech did have anything to do with their investigation anyway. She decides to tell SOCO about it. “That knob,” she spits out. "I’m so going to kill him when he wakes up.”

“That would be counterproductive, wouldn’t it?” Katie snorts.

“Be careful or I’ll make you check the CCTV around his other routes to see whether someone else was waiting for him there,” Ellie growls and Katie takes it as a cue to leave as soon as possible.

Ellie gives her that order anyway, half an hour later. Katie hangs her head without compliant and gets to work. Ellie focuses on the tapes covering the today’s route.

SOCO are still working on Alec’s clothes and phone. Ellie glances at her mobile from time to time, waiting for a call from either the hospital or Daisy.

By lunch she knows the red Ford wasn’t caught on any camera, but Hardy was, running alone. She can even see the black headband on his forehead and a wire running down his back to his hoodie pocket, presumably to the phone. She remembers why Hardy bought the camera and has to stop herself from growling in frustration and anger at him. She hopes that something can be salvaged from the damaged device.

SOCO also checks the tire tracks near her home, the dimensions between the two lines on the asphalt are consistent with a Ford Fiesta-sized car.

They were there, by her home, waiting for Hardy. Ellie feels a chill run down her back.

Ellie’s mobile phone rings; she picks up, not looking at the screen.

She doesn’t even manage to introduce herself, when she hears a soft:

“Mrs Miller?” The voice on the other side is teary and familiar.

“Hello, Daisy,” Ellie greets her softly and straightens. She can hear the hospital sounds in the background. She glances at the clock: it’s one P.M., five hours after she found out what had happened to Hardy. She wonders who let Daisy know.

“I’m standing by the door of my dad’s hospital room and I need you to prepare me for what I’ll see behind it,” Daisy says.

Ellie bites her lip. Damn it to Hardys for making her do the impossible. Stay detached during Danny’s case! Prepare a teenager for the sight of her father who was run over by a car!

But Daisy is seventeen and Alec’s daughter. Playing it down wouldn’t achieve anything.

Ellie sighs.

“He’s bruised and bandaged,” she says softly. “Some broken bones, a concussion. It’s not a pretty sight, but as far as I know he’s stable.”

“Okay,” Ellie hears Daisy take a deep breath.

“Can you drop by the CID later?” Ellie asks, still soft.

“Sure. Thank you, Mrs Miller.”

“You’re welcome.”

Daisy disconnects the call.

Ellie can’t focus for some time afterwards, she can only imagine Daisy’s reaction to Hardy’s state. That changes once Nish and Brian bring her their results.

Nish managed to extract video files from Hardy’s phone; he's still working on call and text history.

“Didn’t look at them,” he assures Ellie and sends everything to her computer.

At the same time, Brian comes to Ellie’s desk in person to report his findings: he found chips of a red car paint on Hardy’s sweats.

“Typical paint, used in 2008 Ford Fiestas,” he says with smug satisfaction.

“And probably a number of other models,” she replies. “We need a witness call for anyone who saw a red Fiesta with a dented hood. Damn, I hope that Hardy’s plan to film his own murder worked, we need the plates.”

“You think that’s what he did?”

“I’m ninety nine percent sure,” she growls. “Up until last week, he didn’t jog with his phone or the camera, so he was preparing himself for this. I wonder how he's been living for the last week, basically waiting for this to happen.”

Not sleeping, she realises. Yesterday he looked about as bad as he did during Danny’s case, the vampiric Shitface with deep issues, the week of uncertainty and fear - for his daughter, most likely, never for himself - enough to put him on the sad path again.

He’s not suicidal, she knows. Everything indicates that he wasn’t standing in the middle of the street like a deer in the headlights, waiting to be hit, he did what he could to survive and minimise the damage done to him. He’s still at risk, but he has more chances of recovery than he would have if he was hit full-on.

“How is he?” Brian asks softly. She looks at him, surprised by the concern in his voice. “He’s still Shitface, but it doesn’t make him deserve being run over by a car.”

“Not literally, at least,” Ellie agrees. God knows she dreamed about doing this to him when he was at his grumpiest, but now she regrets those thoughts. He’ll be in pain and a literal hell to deal with when he regains consciousness, totally dependent on others to help him move around. “He’s alive and fighting to stay that way.”

She remembers that he was allowed to start jogging only recently and he really liked it; now it will be months before he’ll be able to move normally.

He’ll recover, she’s sure. He’s too stubborn to let this be the end of him. He’ll regain consciousness, piss them off for months with his bitching, go to rehabilitation, stand up on his feet and get back to work. There’s no other option.

“I’ll let you know if I find anything else,” Brian says and leaves her alone.

Ellie nods and takes a deep breath.

“Alright, onto the tasks,” she murmurs and calls for attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the original idea (the one I hated) Alec was pushed off the lower section of the cliff, so there was an added pneumonia, near-drowning and some fingernails ripped off, but I decided it was a little bit too much. ;)  
> As always, feel free to comment. Even an emoji is fine. ;)


	3. Solving it

Daisy arrives at the CID two hours after her phone call. Ellie is pretty busy dealing with the videos from Hardy’s phone, but she doesn’t hesitate to put them aside and sit with the girl in one of the visitor’s rooms.

Daisy hugs a bag with a laptop inside. Her eyes are puffy, but dry: she cried herself out already.

“I saw dad saving the recordings from his runs on the laptop,” she says and pushes the bag into Ellie’s hands. “He set up an open user account on it, there’s no password, everything should be there.”

“Damn it,” Ellie mutters and puts the bag aside.

“He was preparing for this,” Daisy says and it’s not a question. The fingers of her hands on her lap are tightly interlocked. “He was already solving what he knew would be his murder.”

“Attempt,” Ellie corrects. “He’s alive and he’ll stay that way. He’s safe, we have guards by his room, no-one will touch him.”

“I hate him sometimes, you know?” Daisy says and sniffs. “A policeman, first and foremost. I know people don’t like him much, but I can’t help but love and respect him for what he does and how he does it.”

“Yeah, he’s a knob,” Ellie replies with a smile, looking at Daisy, so grown up - both mentally and by age - yet so lost now. “But he’s our knob, we’ll solve this and keep you both safe.”

Ellie reaches out and puts a comforting hand on the girl’s knee.

A lone tear falls down Daisy’s cheek.

“You really care about him, don’t you,” she says.

Ellie pauses and removes her hand.

“We’re friends, I think. And I hate him,” she finally admits without any heat. “God, he irritates me, all I do all day is argue with him.”

“But you care about him,” Daisy argues.

“He’s a good man, and as much as I hated him for taking my job when he first came to Broadchurch, all I saw afterwards was commitment. He still irritated me, I still argued…”

“I think he likes it,” Daisy admits, smiling through her tears. “You’re one of very few people who fight back, who have the nerve to stand up to him like this.”

Ellie smiles and looks down, at her hands clasped together on her lap.

“And it changed him, you know? For the better,” Daisy continues, watching her, her eyes so familiarly attentive, just like her father’s. “It may be hard to notice, but he’s more open, more human. I’ve never doubted he loves me, it’s just… you kind of stripped away some of his shell, you know? By being there for him.”

_ When he let me, _ Ellie thinks. He allowed her to help him solve Sandbrook and practically move into his little house at the same time, along with Fred. He let her know he had the pacemaker surgery: the fact that he did it only afterwards and by text was only just him being himself.

Was it only because he needed someone, he needed to not be so utterly alone? Or did he really decide to open up somewhat? Did he choose her specifically or was it because she was the nearest person who tolerated him?

“He did the same for me, I think, during some of the worst moments of my life,” Ellie confesses.

She remembers him being there, beside her, when they found out who killed Danny. He’s been with her when Joe was released. He provided the distraction. He understood.

“He loves you, you know,” Daisy says and Ellie feels like someone threw a bucket of ice-cold water on her head. “Not romantically, at least I don’t think so, but you’re more important to him than mum ever was. I can see that every time you’re together for not work-related reasons.”

“I…” Ellie chokes out.

“Sorry, it wasn’t my thing to say.” Daisy shakes her head. “I’ll leave you to your work, you know. I hope you’ll solve it soon.”

“We will do our best,” Ellie says and stands up with the girl. “And don’t tell him that, but maybe I love him a little, too.”

Daisy gives a teary smile and leaves.

* * *

“That goddamn knob!” Ellie shouts three hours later. Everyone on the floor falls silent. Ellie blushes. “He did solve the murder attempt on him,” she manages and then there’s another kind of interest from her colleagues.

The CCTV recordings, a weird kind of diary Alec wrote on the laptop, the call history from prison, Hardy’s own call and text history and most importantly, the videos from his phone: everything creates a comprehensive image of what happened to Alec. Hardy’s last recording - from this morning - is the most important though, showing the red Fiesta’s plates, even a glimpse of the driver and the passenger inside. The video stopped the moment Alec hit the pavement and Ellie will never admit how much she wants to puke because of that last second.

The recording confirmed that he tried to escape. He tried to stay as safe as possible, but there was no place for him to hide and avoid the determined driver.

She’s glad the video doesn’t have sound.

From that moment, the investigation progresses surprisingly quickly. They’re trying to identify the people inside the car, but the footage is a little bit too grainy. Another team is looking for the Fiesta: they find out soon that it was rented. A couple of phone calls later they have the warrant to get into the car rental office files and CCTV recordings from the parking lot.

Hardy’s diary can’t be really used in court, but he wrote about some other cars probably used by his would-be murderers, including the plates, so that’s something to check out, too.

“If it wasn’t about him I’d be so happy it goes so smoothly,” Ellie murmurs as she watches Katie go through all the evidence they gathered so far.

“It’s similar to being hurt in a hospital, right?” the DC asks. “Best place to be hurt. A police officer who is aware they’re targeted is the best witness.”

“Pretty much,” Ellie replies with a smile. Katie’s behaved professionally so far, not counting her protest in the morning, so Ellie can be nice to her. They all are determined to solve the case as soon as possible and they’re on the right track.

Their enthusiasm is diminished by the bad news that come from the hospital: Hardy suffers from a minor intracranial bleeding and is under close observation. The risk of a permanent brain damage - epilepsy, migraines, memory loss - is low, thankfully, but there’s the possibility they’ll have to move him to a bigger hospital. The neurologist is hard at work and keeping an eye on him. It’s very sobering for all of the CID officers.

Katie and Nish promise to stay the night and process the load of data they have now; Ellie takes it as an excuse to go visit Hardy in the hospital again.

She’s not surprised when she finds Daisy there. The girl is sitting at her father’s bedside and is reading a book, most likely for school.

Hardy doesn’t look any better than he did in the morning; probably worse, due to the sharp artificial lights and deepening bruises.

“Hey, Mrs Miller,” Daisy smiles and puts away the book.

“How is he?” Ellie asks as she approaches the bed.

“He just got back from the EEG, the neurologist says there’s no reason to panic for now,” Daisy replies, then glances at her father. “It’s scary to see him like this.”

“I know.”

“The doctors think the bleeding isn’t getting worse, they’ll know for sure in the morning,” Daisy adds.

“And how do you feel?” Ellie asks, still watching the girl. The sight of Hardy in this bed is far too painful to handle for a long time.

Daisy shrugs.

“I’m fine. Mum’s coming, she’ll be here in the morning.”

The girl purses her lips. She’s nervous and suddenly Ellie knows the reason why.

“You can spend the night at my home, if you want,” she suggests. Daisy’s eyes snap towards her. “Your house has a nice view, but it’s pretty exposed. I wouldn’t want to sleep there after what’s happened, definitely not alone.”

“I don’t want to intrude…” the girl protests weakly, probably for the sake of politeness.

“You won’t. We don’t think the people who did this keep an eye on your house, but we’re almost certain they don’t keep an eye on mine, so it’ll be safer for you, too. And we can have a girls’ night, just the two of us. We won’t tell your dad,” Ellie adds with a mischievous smile.

Daisy smiles broader.

“I’d love to, thank you.”

“That’s settled. We’ll go straight to my place, you can borrow some pajamas for one night.”

Daisy nods, then purses her lips again and touches her father’s hand lightly.

Ellie glances at Alec, still lying unmoving on the bed.  _ We have to take care of her, too, for your sake, _ she thinks and has to bite back the tears that threaten to spill.

* * *

It should be weird, having a girls’ night with your boss’ daughter, but somehow it feels natural. Maybe it’s because they both care deeply about Hardy, so they’re bonded worrying about him.

Since Daisy’s not eighteen yet, their girls’ night consists of eating crisps and watching romcoms. Fred is put to bed early despite the initial excitement of having a guest; Tom doesn’t care much, but he’s not hostile. Ellie’s dad has moved to Lucy’s, so she and Daisy have the whole house to themselves. They don’t talk about their private lives, even though they both know a lot about one another. Ellie is tempted to ask about the reasons behind Daisy’s conflict with her mother, but the girl doesn’t look like she wants to discuss anything difficult for now, so Ellie leaves it alone.

They both manage to catch a few hours of sleep afterwards. Daisy graciously helps with the breakfast and Ellie is shocked when she sees how easily Daisy manages to handle Fred, who is everywhere and even more excited than he was yesterday about having a girl at home.

“Do you babysit?” Ellie blurts out when Fred is occupied with his breakfast much sooner that she’s ever been able to make him.

Daisy smiles.

“I did in Sandbrook, why?” she asks with all the innocence on her face.

“Oooh, you know why,” Ellie gives her a toothy smile in reply. “Too late, girl, your magic powers have been revealed and I’m sure I’ll take advantage of them… from time to time.”

Daisy doesn’t stop smiling. She helps with cleaning, then Ellie drops her off at Alec’s house, so the girl can change into fresh clothes. The police officer put on lookout here yesterday waves at Ellie, relaxed.

Tess Henchard is waiting outside the CID when Ellie gets there at eight in the morning.

“Ellie,” Alec’s ex-wife greets her with a soft smile. “Thank you for taking care of Daisy last night, I couldn’t get here earlier.”

“No problem” Ellie waves her off. “Have you been to the hospital yet?”

“No. I hoped you’d let me know what you have. I won’t try to take over your case, but some outside involvement could help you holding the case in court. I’ve already discussed it with your CS,” Tess says with some hesitation.

“Considering the material we've gathered so far, it’s practically a self-solver,” Ellie replies, making sure she doesn’t sound hostile. They get to their floor, Ellie introduces Tess to others as a DS from Sandbrook, but she doesn’t mention she’s Alec’s ex-wife.

Katie looks half-dead from the lack of sleep, she barely stifles a yawn as she stands in front of the circle of all involved officers.

“We found the red Fiesta used in the hit-and-run on DI Hardy, abandoned five miles out of town, on the way to Weymouth,” she reports, gathering the little energy she can still find in herself. “We talked to the rental office that owns the Fiesta, we got more CCTV footage and the clear image of the people who rented it. They used fake IDs, but they’re in our database, Bryce Lamb and Marcia Reese, charged with theft and drug dealing, identities confirmed by partial fingerprints left in the car. We’re getting warrants for arrest on both of them as we speak. We’re also looking for the connection between them and Barrett Willis and Royce Clements, the people from our last drug case, as DI Hardy suggested there’s a link.”

“Willis and Clements didn’t have any visitors in prison, we’re still going through their calls list,” Nish adds. “Also, DI Hardy’s received some anonymous texts and phone calls over the last week, we’re still looking for the source of those.”

Tess is listening intently the whole time, staring at the photos of the scene, the car and the suspects displayed on the board.

“And this is where Sandbrook Police can come in, because Lamb and Reese are our locals,” she cuts in. “My colleagues will be very happy to make the arrests on your behalf and take a closer look at the case from their angle.”

Ellie purses her lips and shifts uncomfortably on her feet.

“It’s still your case, of course, but we’re happy to help,” Tess rushes to add when she sees Ellie’s reaction.

“It’s not that,” Ellie murmurs and gets a frown from Tess in reply, but the other woman doesn’t comment.

After the rest of the debriefing, Ellie praises Katie’s work; the younger officer accepts it with a nod and a soft smile. Then Ellie leads Tess to Alec’s office and closes the door behind them.

“You say you’re happy to help, but what happened to Alec’s ‘no-one stood up for me’ after the initial failure of the Gillespie case?” Ellie asks, standing next to the couch, her posture as open as possible.

Tess sighs and sits on the couch, clasping her hands on her lap.

“Alec is a police officer, a high-ranking and experienced detective,” Tess starts. Ellie notices the woman doesn’t mention the fact that he’s also her ex-husband and they have a daughter together. “He was attacked, so it’s personal to all of us. Besides…” Tess hesitates, sighs and looks at Ellie. “It doesn’t really matter now, but he was different when he returned. We all knew he finally solved the Gillespie case, and he was healthier, a little bit more open, too. No-one in Sandbrook hates him, no-one ever did, really. That’s how he got away with his career after he covered for me, because there was still respect, he was still the DI that almost died trying to solve the case. Just now he probably wouldn’t have to leave.”

Ellie nods and crosses her arms on her chest.

“Don’t you hate him sometimes?” she blurts out. Tess looks at her, eyes wide. “I mean, he was preparing for this,” she explains gesturing at the main room, visible through the office window. “He knew they were following him, he knew something could happen. He never really said anything, just warned us to be careful, he bought the sport camera and even after his own hit-and-run he somehow made sure he caught the plates of the car that ran him over. I should be… I don’t know, thankful? For him solving the murder attempt on him?” Ellie shrugs. “Without his footage it could be easily classified as a simple accident and we would have no idea who did it, but we know he was targeted, and I hate him so much for that.”

“It’s still just means to an end,” Tess murmurs. “He wants those people put away, but he doesn’t care what happens to him.”

“Why?!” Ellie almost shouts, throwing her arms wide in helplessness. “What happened to put him in this place? What can we do to change it, to make him see there are people who care about him?”

She now realises it’s what’s been bugging her for a long time now, his disregard of his own well-being. It’s the first time she can see the possible source of that, talk to the person who can shed some light on that annoying mystery.

“He’s always been like this,” Tess replies calmly. “It got much worse after we lost the Gillespie case, but now he’s getting better. It’s a long way up, but I think he has someone to help him along the way.”

Ellie pauses and makes sure her face doesn’t express anything, which is hard, considering her eyes are full of tears after her outburst.

“I mean you, Ellie,” Tess says, exasperated. “You’re there for him. You’re more important to him than both of you probably realise, and he’s going to need you now more than ever. I’m willing to stay here and take care of him when he’s discharged from the hospital—”

“Are you?” Ellie cuts in, surprised.

“—but it’s you who keeps him alive,” Tess finishes. “His life is here now,” she adds with emphasis.

Ellie purses her lips and shifts uncomfortably on her feet.

“I’m not asking you to play nurse for him, as it’s not your responsibility, I’m just saying I won’t take him or Daisy away,” Tess assures her.

Ellie nods.

“Alright, I’m going to call my people and ask about possible arrests and a time off, then I’ll go see Alec at the hospital,” Tess says and stands up, not looking at Ellie.

“Maybe you could wait with the time off for when he’s discharged, if you really want to stay with him,” Ellie suggests, her throat tight.

Tess shakes her head.

“I’d rather not have Daisy sleep alone in the house and…”

“She can sleep at mine,” Ellie says quickly. “It’s absolutely no trouble.”

“Did she reveal her children-minding magic?” Tess asks with a soft smile and Ellie can’t help but return it. “Thank you.”

Ellie nods.

* * *

The doctors suspect Alec will wake up in a day or two. The bleeding is subsiding, the risk of brain damage is low. Daisy spends the night at her dad’s house with her mother; she packs a bag in the morning and moves to Ellie’s after school that day.

When Ellie finishes her shift at the CID, she goes first to a chip joint, then to the hospital, where she finds Daisy at her father’s bedside, busy with homework. She offers one bag of chips to the girl, who eyes it warily.

“Can we eat chips here?” Daisy asks.

“Sure, I’ve asked the nurse,” Ellie replies. She really did. “No better way of annoying your dad into waking up than chips, eh?”

Daisy smiles at this, takes the bag, puts the notebook she was writing in into her backpack and starts to eat.

Ellie sits in the second chair by the bed and digs into her own bag of chips. They eat in silence, accompanied only by the beeping of the ECG. Alec looks even worse than yesterday, the bruises on his face the perfect shade of purple. The bandage around his head is gone, though, his brown hair flattened on his forehead. Ellie notices he doesn’t have an IV hooked on, so now it’s just bruises, stitches, casts on two limbs, an oxygen line under his nose, ECG electrodes on his chest and a pulse oximeter on his finger. A picture of misery.

She can't stop herself: she reaches out and fixes his hair a little, ruffling it up.

Alec frowns, swallows thickly and sighs.

Ellie and Daisy freeze.

“Dad?” Daisy asks tentatively and touches his left hand, lying on the blanket. No reaction.

Ellie and Daisy glance at each other. The ECG reading doesn’t change, his pulse doesn’t speed up.

Ellie sits back in her chair; Daisy still holds onto Alec’s hand, chips forgotten.

“Has he ever hugged you?” Daisy asks after a short while of silence.

Ellie startles.

“No. He suggested it, I always declined,” she admits, wondering what brought it up.

“Your loss,” Daisy shrugs and glances at her. “He gives the best hugs, he envelopes you, holds you really tight, and it’s soft despite how skinny he is. Especially now, when his circulation is better and his hands aren’t cold anymore.”

Ellie noticed that, too. It was a surprise, when their hands brushed for the first time after the surgery, when one of them passed a cup of something to the other, she doesn’t remember what it was or even when it was, precisely. She remembers their goodbye handshake after solving Sandbrook as warm and firm. She also remembers almost regretting not letting him hug her then. Cold or not, his hands has always been strong, the steady grip of those long fingers on her shoulder.

“I know he’s awkward in social situations, but this is the one thing he can offer,” Daisy continues. “I’ve always known he loves me, because he shows he cares with his hugs.”

“Now I want to hug him for all those times I didn’t allow him to touch me,” Ellie admits, a little bit for Daisy’s sake. Those hugs he offered, the one in the court’s bathroom, that hand brushing her shoulder when she learned that Tom wanted to testify on behalf of his father, his disappointment with her offered handshake when he was leaving…

He was alone then. Dying. Touch-starved. He needed it about as much as she did.

It’s not her style, though. She has her personal space and there are very few people allowed in it. Her sons, any time. And that’s about it; every time Hardy touched her - or she touched him - it was accidental and brief. Sometimes it was a smack on a hand in frustration, from both of them. Nothing as intimate as a hug.

But was it unwanted? Is he really a person she wouldn’t accept a soothing touch from, under any circumstances? She doesn’t like to be touched in tense situations and Hardy probably uses the touch to ease the tension. Polar opposites, really.

Now she can’t help but wonder how does it feel like, to be hugged by him.

Daisy, the daughter of two police officers, reads her like an open book and waves her hand.

“Nah, he’s like a cat. Tactile, but he accepts affection at times chosen by him only.”

Ellie smiles, somewhat grateful for Daisy trying to make her feel less guilty.

A voice, hoarse, weak and nasal, comes from the hospital bed:

“Stop revealin’ all my secrets.”

Ellie and Daisy jump to their feet. Ellie pushes a call button, Daisy stands in the line of Hardy’s sight, still holding onto his hand.

His eyes open slowly, then squeeze shut at the harsh lights in the room. Ellie dims the lights and looks out into the corridor, waiting for the nurses or the doctor.

“Hey, darlin’,” Hardy whispers and Daisy sobs, running her free hand through his hair.

“You gave us a scare, you know that?” she asks.

“Sorry,” he replies, his voice still weak, but at least he opens his eyes again and looks at her.

Ellie sees the nurses running towards the room and returns inside. She pokes Hardy’s shoulder with her finger and when he turns to her, she seethes through her clenched teeth:

“I want to kill you and I really hope you remember why.”

“Ask me tomorrow,” he slurs and closes his eyes.

By the time the nurses reach his bed, he’s asleep again. They don’t try to wake him up, they just ask Ellie and Daisy what’s happened.

“It’s a very good sign,” the doctor assures them when he hears the story. “We’re looking at the possibly the best case scenario. Light sensitivity is absolutely normal under the circumstances. I’m sure tomorrow he’ll be more coherent.”

After that, Daisy doesn’t want to go home, in case her dad wakes up again, but Ellie’s insistence and a firm ‘visiting hours are over’ from the nurses win in the end.

They don’t talk on the way to Ellie’s home. Alec regained consciousness and recognised them, which is a good start. A huge weight was lifted from their shoulders, but the short conversation still doesn’t tell them much about Alec’s state. 

When they enter the house, Daisy hesitates.

“Will you need me for anything tomorrow?” she asks, her fingers twitching by her sides.

Ellie looks at her. Tomorrow’s Saturday, she’ll probably be busy wrapping up Alec’s case, so she could use a child minder for Fred, but then she looks into Daisy’s pleading eyes and she knows the girl’s plans for tomorrow. She can’t keep her at home, not after today.

“No, I don’t think so,” she replies.

“No, seriously,” Daisy rolls her eyes and she’s a spitting image of her father. “I know you know I want to sit by dad the whole day, but if you need me to look after Fred or Tom…”

Ellie smiles.

“I have other childminders, so no, I won’t need you tomorrow and damn, your father’s genes are strong even though you don’t look like him much.”

Daisy smiles shyly.

“A couple of years ago I’d be insulted,” she says and then helps Ellie make dinner for the four of them.

They don’t have another ‘girls’ night’. They’re both tired, but still manage to meet in the kitchen for the last glass of water before sleep.

They sit at the table and don’t look at each other.

“What happened between you and your mum?” Ellie asks after a minute of silence.

Daisy glances at her.

“You mean, what made me not ignore dad anymore and then move in with him here?”

Ellie nods.

“I stopped ignoring him when I found out what mum did during the Gillespie case,” Daisy says sombrely. “She had an affair, not dad, she was the reason they lost the key evidence, then she allowed dad to cover for her and take the heat for her screw-up.”

Ellie is chilled. That was a painful truth to find.

“How?”

Daisy shrugs.

“Not directly, not from them. I read the article in Broadchurch Echo and figured it out.”

Ellie nods. Maggie and Olly were very careful to omit the saucy details, probably at Alec’s request.

Ellie suspected agreeing to that interview was Alec’s first step in his healing process after the Gillespie case. He finally let it go, revealed the truth and got his daughter back as a result.

The most important step was actually solving the case, of course, but the fact that Alec decided to open up about it was a huge change for the better. He still had nightmares, but people learnt he’s not a failure, not the worst cop in Britain, which probably helped him at work, as nobody could hold the Gillespie case against him anymore, especially after he solved it.

“I hated myself for turning away from him like this,” Daisy spits out.

“You didn’t know the truth,” Ellie reaches over and puts her hand on the girl’s. “I’m sure you’re making up now for those lost years. He loves you and he’s so happy having you here.”

Ellie also realises that the fact he let Daisy go after the divorce was a part of his so-called martyrdom. He just took what life was throwing at him, treated it like penance. She wonders whether the advice she gave him by the river in Sandbrook, the one that resulted in throwing Claire out of the cottage, was him starting to fight back, to reclaim what he really deserved. Soon after that he had his pacemaker surgery, survived it and then had more strength to continue fighting back. The triumphs that followed were undeniable, the biggest of them is sitting here, in Ellie’s kitchen, drinking water before sleep.

“They tried to protect me, they said. Dad protecting mum even though she didn’t really deserve it. Even after it almost killed him.”

Ellie squeezes Daisy’s hand a little bit tighter.

“He survived that one,” she says. “And now he’ll survive this, with you by his side.”

Daisy turns her teary eyes at her.

“And you, right? Mum says she’ll be here, but I don’t think dad is going to make it easy for her to stay with him.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, we’ll keep him in line,” Ellie smiles at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English is still not my native language and I don’t live in an English speaking country, so if you noticed any really obvious mistakes, especially those I make repeatedly, please let me know via [Tumblr](https://keyrousse.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/keyrousse) (or here if you don’t have accounts there). I know I should have found a beta reader, I’m just too impatient to wait for my usual beta to finish the show :). You're also welcome to just give me a shout there if you want :).


	4. Safety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this chapter slightly less than the ones that come after it, so have it today and we can continue with more satisfying material tomorrow ;)

_ Dad woke up for half an hour. Last thing he remembers is Monday before the accident. _

Ellie reads Daisy’s message and smiles. It’s two days missing from his memory, but it could be much worse. He’s still light-sensitive and suffering from headache due to the concussion, but he could end up as an invalid, or dead.

Ellie spends the Saturday gathering as many pieces of evidence as she can, there’s also a very intense exchange of information between Broadchurch and Sandbrook CIDs. When she’s finally free from work and can go visit Hardy, he’s asleep. When asked about him, the doctors are mildly optimistic: there’s something that still worry them about Hardy’s state, but he’s definitely on the mend.

On Sunday morning she gets a message from Tess Henchard:  _ Suspects arrested, confessed, prosecution on the way. _

A self-solver, sure. With all the footage and Hardy’s call and text history they managed to extract from his broken phone - multiple calls and empty texts from anonymous numbers in the middle of the night for the week before the accident, including one call that he recorded and that mentioned Clements - the case is pretty watertight. Keeping Hardy in line will be more difficult.

_ At least with two broken limbs he can’t run very fast, _ she thinks and then wonders how mean was that.

She visits him that afternoon while Daisy is in the cafeteria. Hardy is sitting up on the bed, propped on the pillows and loopy from painkillers, but he’s conscious. The oxygen tube has disappeared, IV line is in place.

She throws a bag of grapes on the bed by his hip.

“Ha,” he says, unimpressed. His voice is stronger than on Friday, but he still keeps it quiet, probably to not aggravate his headache.

“Thank you for solving the case of the murder attempt on you for us, sir,” she says, “making us do all the legwork while you laze in a comfy bed.”

He frowns, processing.

“Solved it already?” he asks. His speech is slightly slurred; Ellie hopes it’s due to painkillers.

“You gave us everything on a silver platter,” Ellie shrugs.

Hardy’s frown deepens.

“Then why do you look like you want to shout at me?”

Ellie has to work hard to not do exactly that.

“Because you could have easily avoided risking your life,” she hisses. Then she realises she’s not even sure whether Hardy knows what has happened to him. “You knew they were following you, that you were a target, yet you still couldn’t give up your little morning jogs, putting yourself out in the open to be run over by a car.”

He blinks at her. It’s almost painful, watching him as he needs time to understand what is said to him. With his hair sticking up he looks quite boyish and lost.

He takes a deep breath and she knows he wants to argue, but then he deflates and lays his head back on the pillows and stares at the ceiling.

“Better me alone in the open than make ‘em go after me at home, riskin’ Daisy,” he murmurs.

Ellie has to bite back tears. It’s so typically him, she’s not even surprised.

“Well, no more martyrdom for you,” she seethes. “They’re gone, you’re safe.”

“When will you take me home?” he asks and she can see he’s tired already, falling asleep.

“Oh no, no trying to be discharged early,” Ellie says, poking him with her finger. He looks at her with those wide eyes and her resolve is crumbling at the sight of his gaunt, pale and bruised face. “You’ll stay at the hospital for as long as the doctors deem necessary, and after you’re discharged you will follow their orders, take it easy and take the meds, or I’ll cuff you to bed, do you hear me?”

Hardy blinks again at her outburst.

“Yeah, okay,” he says after a short pause.

It’s Ellie’s turn to blink.

“... that was easy.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I believe you’d cuff me to the bed.”

Ellie smirks, then puts a hand on his shoulder, just to feel the warmth of his body. He’s alive, he’s here. He’s conscious, although not for long, she can see it.

He doesn’t react to her touch, only shifts slightly to make himself more comfortable on the bed.

She keeps her hand on his shoulder as she watches him fall asleep. Then she drags one chair closer to his head, sits in it, leans forward with one arm on the bed and her chin propped on it; she uses her other hand to smooth down the wild spikes of his hair she’s almost certain were made by Daisy.

“I’m glad you’ll be okay, sir,” she murmurs as she studies his profile.

* * *

On Monday, Ellie drives to Sandbrook on Tess’ invitation to wrap up the case. Since they have the confessions, she doesn’t even need to talk to the people who attempted to kill Hardy, and she’s quite happy with that.

At the CID, Tess shows Ellie everything they - both Broadchurch and Sandbrook police - gathered, including the confessions.

“Do we have the connection between the drug case and the ‘run-over’ case?” Ellie asks.

“We do, they were business associates. Lamb and Reese didn’t call or visit Clements and Willis in prison, but we believe they simply read the news about the arrests and decided to go after the detective who put their friends behind bars. We also found something interesting in the prison calls of both pairs,” Tess says and passes Ellie a sheet of paper.

Ellie looks at it, then on Tess, eyes wide.

“Fancy a trip?” Tess asks, quirking an eyebrow.

As Ellie watches Tess drive her car to a constructions company outside Sandbrook, she has to admit that Tess is classy. When you forget the fact that she cheated on Hardy during a very difficult case - and Ellie has to wonder whether that happened before or after Hardy almost drowned - the way Tess holds herself, her style is very attractive. She catches an eye and Ellie can't blame Hardy for being drawn to her.

She wonders how it started between him and Tess. A one-night stand after a stressful day - which would be probably Tess’ style - and it turned into something more - which was very much Hardy-like?

That was possible. Hardy’s a man with manly needs, and also smart and committed. With his looks it's the perfect package, really, once you strip off the layer of grumpiness and he allows himself to open up a little.

Ellie has to work hard to not actually like Tess. She supported them, albeit reluctantly, when Ellie and Hardy were working on the Gillespie case, she made arrests on people who tried to kill Hardy, now she wants to take care of him after he’s discharged from the hospital. On the other hand, she was the reason of years of Hardy’s misery. One person can be bitchy one time and caring the other, Ellie concludes and stops thinking about it.

Tess parks her car by the main building of Phelps Constructions. It’s a large warehouse with a much smaller office building adjacent to it. It’s rather quiet and Ellie wonders what do they need the whole warehouse for. They get out of the car and walk towards the office; they ask the secretary at the front desk about the boss, Mr Hutchinson, and are told to wait while the woman knocks on the door to the adjacent office and gets inside.

The front office is intimidating in a way. The front desk is antique, made of dark oak, the couch they sit on is leather. Other than the two pieces of furniture, the room is empty and immaculately clean.

“You would imagine that with the company named Phelps Constructions, the boss would be Phelps, not Hutchinson,” Ellie mutters.

The door to the inner office opens.

“That’s because the company was founded by my maternal grandfather,” a deep, male voice says from the door. “My mother married a Hutchinson and took his name.”

Ellie and Tess stand up and go inside at the inviting gesture of the man, and sit in two comfortable armchairs facing his desk.

The voice fits his owner pretty well: Mr Hutchinson is tall and clearly leading an unhealthy lifestyle. He fills the leather armchair behind the desk completely, his breathing is laboured, his face is bloated and red. He’s simply asking for a heart attack in the near future.

There’s also an unrelenting authority in his posture and facial expression. He’s looking at the two policewomen like a shark.

_ He looks like a criminal overlord,  _ Ellie thinks.

“My secretary passed me the message you sent before coming here,” the man says, studying them. Ellie feels uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“Yes, we’d like to ask for some minor details, necessary for our investigation,” Tess says calmly.

“Ask away, Detective Sergeant.”

The man isn’t disrespectful, he’s absolutely neutral, feeling safe about his situation. He knows they’re not a threat to him.

Ellie’s discomfort only deepens.

“We’re here to connect the crimes of two pairs of your associates, Barrett Willis and Royce Clements, and Bryce Lamb and Marcia Reese,” Tess says.

“None of those names tell me anything,” Hutchinson shrugs.

“They are listed as employees of your subcontractors.”

“Mrs… DS Henchard, is it?”

Tess nods.

“Phelps Constructions is a large corporation, outsourcing most of its contracts. You can’t expect me to know everyone who’s worked for us,” the man spreads his arms.

“Yes, but hours after their arrests they were called or visited by Ruth Houston, a member of your legal team.”

“I’m sure that with Mrs Houston’s net of associates there would be another point of connection between these people.”

“As far as we know, she works only for Phelps Constructions,” Tess says, her face absolutely devoid of emotions. Ellie watches her and Hutchinson and has to admire the subtle battle of wits.

“What do you expect of me, DS Henchard?”

“After Willis’ and Clement’s arrest, the leading officer on their case was attacked by Lamb and Reese, who admitted they did it for revenge. We’re just here to make sure the situation won’t escalate towards further attacks on the officers who arrested Lamb and Reese.”

“And how am I supposed to know that? Their criminal activity is new to me and as I said, I don’t know everyone.”

Ellie knows for certain that a part of that statement was a lie. The man didn’t even bat an eyelid at the news that people working for him attacked a police officer.

“Yet your legal advisor, working directly for you, was the first person they called or were visited by after their arrests,” Tess argues.

Ellie is far too aware that the connection is thin. Hutchinson can keep denying it and there’s nothing they can do about it. Whether he helps them or not is entirely up to him.

“Just to be clear, Phelps Constructions or you specifically are not a part of the investigations, this conversation will stay between us,” Tess says.

_ Wow, now we’re exposed. _ Ellie bites her lip to not make a sound.

“All we’re trying to do here is avoid chaos, caused by another pair of petty criminals feeling offended that we’re doing our job,” Tess adds, her voice cold as steel.

Hutchinson clasps his hands together on his lap and looks at them with his equally cold, beady eyes, almost drowning in his face.

Ellie forces herself to sit still and just watch, her face an emotionless mask. She can’t really understand why this man even talks to them. He has so many grounds for denial, he has no logical reason to remember any of the people Tess mentioned.

She starts to regret she’s agreed to come here.

Hutchinson looks at Ellie and smiles. The grimace is totally business-like, it’s not friendly. It’s knowing.

“I know what you’re thinking about, DS Miller,” he says. “And since we’re here only to chat about loose connections, let me tell you: with that four of idiots arrested, no, I don’t think you’re facing a war against the police. No-one will come to defend them, and definitely not from my company. Mrs Houston made sure they know that.”

Ellie can feel the change of the atmosphere in the room. It’s less tense, but it doesn’t mean they can relax.

Now she knows what makes her uneasy in this office, why there’s fear creeping up her spine as she watches this old and sick man on the other side of the mahogany desk, in the office just as immaculate as the one on the other side of the door.

This man is not just a boss of a constructions company. He’s The Boss, probably the person all the small criminals in the area answer to. Phelps Constructions is just a front. Ellie feels a stab of anger at Tess, who didn’t tell her that before despite being probably well aware of it.

“So you know them?” Ellie asks.

“I can recall the names of Willis and Clements. I was paying them well and still they stole from me.”

His tone makes Ellie stop herself from asking what did they steal and why he didn’t report the theft. She really doesn’t want to know.

“As for the other two… What they did was their business and I’m not going to support that, nor allow my other associates to,” Hutchinson adds in a tone that says the conversation is over.

Ellie and Tess leave soon after.

“So, if Willis and Clements stole, presumably money, from Hutchinson, that explains their weirdly extensive founding,” Ellie murmurs once they get into the car.

“I’m glad you didn’t confront him on the fact that he lied to us at the beginning,” Tess says as she starts the engine. “Hutchinson is basically the local mafia, just like his maternal grandfather. We don’t have enough evidence to go after him and his people stick mostly to the non-lethal crime. This company is more of an interest to Special Branch, not our measly CIDs.”

“Do you believe what he said? That it won’t escalate?”

The thought that she may be in danger because she was investigating the attack on Hardy hasn’t crossed Ellie’s mind until now. She’s surprised Tess thought of looking at the case from this angle; on the other hand, with a criminal overlord so near, she’s probably more used to checking things like this.

“He keeps his people on a short leash,” Tess replies. “We’ve dealt with him before, of course, so he knows me better than he lets on. We have to be careful though, truces like this are easily broken when you start to reach too high.”

“I’ll try to stay away from the mafia, thank you very much,” Ellie scoffs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second part of this chapter seems weird to me, in retrospective, so I’m sorry.


	5. Support

Hardy is released from the hospital two weeks after the accident. He no longer suffers from the headache and light sensitivity, he stays awake for hours, his voice is back to normal, strong and no longer slurred. His bruises are gone, his forehead is healed, one of the nurses trimmed his beard, so he’s more himself than the battered figure that landed in this bed two weeks ago. He still doesn’t remember the accident, but the neurologist cites traumatic experience and tells them it’s normal. He has only good news for them, although he admits that for the first few days Hardy had some minor seizures that subsided as the intracranial bleeding healed, which were also the reason for the relatively long hospital stay. Now they’re completely gone, Hardy is provided with meds in case of emergency, and instructions what to do once he feels the aura of an oncoming seizure.

“We’re 99.9 percent certain that won’t happen. Better safe than sorry, though,” the neurologist says.

Between the wrapping up of the case and Alec’s discharge Ellie has the opportunity to see how deeply her grumpy boss has wormed into the hearts of Broadchurch inhabitants, who were kept up to date thanks to Maggie's brief and respectful reports on her channel. She’s surprised to see how many people want to help Hardy and his daughter, how much they care about him. There are offers of food to be delivered to his home, of daily visits, of a rehabilitation equipment to be borrowed for the time he would be getting on his feet. She’s approached every day with polite questions about him: it’s like people miss him, like he’s their close friend. Hardy’s one of them now.

She doesn’t tell him that. At least, not yet. She wants to cry, she’s so touched.

Tess returns to Broadchurch, having secured a time off. The two days before Hardy’s discharge are a constant battle between Hardy, Ellie and Tess. At the beginning it seems that he simply doesn’t want  anyone  taking care of him, then Hardy tries to come up with reasons why he shouldn’t stay at his home, and then deflects Tess’ angry suggestions that he should stay at the hospital for the whole time he has casts on his limbs. Ellie quickly figures out what is the real problem: if Hardy’s at his place, Tess will have to be there, too, and he doesn’t want that very much.

During those arguments Hardy’s insufferable character comes to light. He’s awful sometimes, one of the most difficult people Ellie’s ever had to deal with. There’s no mercy in his and Tess’ arguments, old pains dragged up, frustrations taken out on the other person. Ellie suspects that the fact that he’s been holed up in the hospital for two weeks only adds to his foul mood. He needs to move, to change the scenery and not be dependent on others, and he can’t do any of those things, so he lashes out more fiercely than usual.

As long as he doesn’t lash out at her, Ellie doesn’t react. She’s happy that at least Daisy is kept outside their fighting circle.

In the end, the day before the discharge, Ellie suggests that Hardy move in with her for the duration of his recovery. ‘Daisy’s already living with me,’ she argues and Hardy, as expected, puts up a lesser fight than he did against the Tess idea. He still fights, but it’s probably just for the sake of fighting; he has no other options anyway. Ellie suspects he hoped for this outcome, but for the life of him he wouldn’t admit it.

Tess leaves the hospital in a huff, defeated.

On the day of the discharge Ellie goes to the neurologist and asks him about the seizures, since she can’t take the time off and Hardy will be left alone for hours.

“The risk of them happening is absolutely minimal,” the doctor says. “If you want to lower it to almost non-existent, give him the meds in the morning.”

“But there’s still the risk,” Ellie points out.

The doctor sighs.

“It’s a human body, we can’t guarantee anything. I can’t tell you something will or won’t happen. To all my knowledge, he’s safe, he’s recovered fully from the head trauma, he doesn’t have epilepsy, meds are just a precaution.”

Calmed down, Ellie returns to Hardy’s room, pushing a wheelchair. Alec frowns and opens his mouth at the sight of it, but Ellie doesn’t let him protest:

“I really hope you won’t make me regret this,” she drawls through her teeth and by some miracle that forces Hardy into submission. He still grumbles and growls and complains, but he doesn’t fight, doesn’t insist to do anything on his own when he’s dressed into his spare sweats and slippers, put in a wheelchair and lead outside, to Ellie’s car.

He’s so focused on his brooding that he doesn’t notice people watching them from the other side of the road, pointing at them and then typing something on their smartphones. Ellie does, though. She tenses and then she sees that there are no pitying smiles, people look excited. She glances at Hardy, sitting in the passenger seat, pushed back as far as possible to fit his broken leg; he’s staring at it like he doesn’t recognise it, he doesn’t pay any attention to what’s happening around him.

A nurse takes the wheelchair, Ellie sits in the driver’s seat of her car and closes her door.

“Alright, let’s get you ho… out of here,” she says as she starts the engine. Home. He’s not going home. He’s going to her place and he’ll have to spend another six weeks there before the casts are off.

She feels sorry for him already.

They don’t talk on the way, Alec doesn’t even look out the window, still staring at his broken limbs.

All three kids are waiting for them outside Ellie's house. Tess is there, too.

When Hardy opens the car door, there’s no ‘welcome home’ from them, they just approach; Tom takes his bag from the back seat, Daisy helps him get out of the car, then Tess approaches, supports him from the other side and so he limps on one leg, hanging between the two women of his life, to the house and then the living room. He’s put on the couch and left there as Daisy goes to the kitchen to make tea and Tess gathers the bedding he’ll use. Tom puts his bag by the wall, Ellie closes the main door to the house. No-one says a word.

Tom uses the first opportunity he gets to escape to his room; Tess leaves before sunset. Fred, at first excited about having another guest, quickly leaves Alec alone at Ellie’s insistence. Hardy is no fun anyway, brooding on the couch for hours.

When the time comes they have to prepare for bed, Daisy is the one who leads her father to the bathroom and leaves him there, first making sure he’s able to move around, more or less, before he even starts to argue he doesn’t need that much help. He does, Ellie knows, but she’s going to let him find that out on his own. She realises how hard the next weeks will be for all of them. She hopes that her ability to argue with him and not be intimidated into giving in will be enough to keep them sane.

Daisy checks on Hardy ten minutes later. He managed to wash himself and use the toilet, but Daisy has to help him change into his pajamas and whatever pride he felt at his minor victory is quickly diminished.

“Dad,” Daisy mutters when they’re done and he looks like he’s ready to fall to pieces, sitting on the toilet seat. “You had a car accident that was actually a murder attempt. You’re alive, with some broken bones. You’ll get better.”

He looks at her and she can’t resist: she hugs him, mindful of his broken ribs. He returns the hug with his healthy arm and buries his face in the crook of her neck. She scratches lightly at the back of his head.

“I hate this,” he mutters.

“I know. We’re here for you, whether you like it or not.”

He straightens then and gives her a subdued smile.

“Come on,” Daisy says and pats his back. “There’s something you should see.”

She leads him out of the bathroom and to the main door, where Ellie’s already waiting. She reaches out for him and they step out of the house.

Outside, around them, in the street and on the field, there are lights. Dozens of lights, mostly flashlights, some torches, some phone screens.

“What is this?” Hardy chokes out.

“You know our traditional show of support in the hard times, don’t you? This is for you,” Ellie replies. “Or for me and Daisy, if you don’t want it,” she adds with a smile.

She knows showing him this is risky, she has no idea how he’ll react. She’s aware that it can be a little bit too much for a recluse like him, a man who hated this place from the first day he came here and still hates it, ‘mostly’, after settling here for good.

She knows that he isn't completely honest about his hatred. He first came here because of Claire Ripley, having just lost his previous job, his family and health, so no wonder he was miserable; but then, when he was looking for a place to settle down with Daisy, he returned here, although as an experienced DI he could go anywhere. He chose Broadchurch.

And now people of Broadchurch are out there with lights, doing what they do best: stand together.

Ellie wants to put her arm on Alec’s waist. Daisy does that already, watching the display in silence.

His mouth is wide open in shock, the lights glisten in his dark eyes. This show of solidarity is probably the last thing he expected from this annoying little town.

Last time Ellie’s seen him this emotional and open was when he was telling her of how he found Pippa Gillespie in the river and almost drowned, and it wasn’t the story that made her cry with him, but the raw feelings in his voice.

That story made her love him a little.

He shakes his head and tries to step back towards the house. Ellie puts her hand on his back to stop him and he just lets her.

So now they stand outside her house, Hardy between her and Daisy, watching the proof that despite his difficult character, he’s respected and supported.

He probably wouldn’t get it after Danny’s case. He was an outsider and Ellie’s friends heard her complaining about him often enough. Now, months after his return, spent on keeping the town as safe as possible and trying to blend in, he deserves that.

And he’s taking it surprisingly graciously.

“Should I tell them you appreciate the gesture?” she asks, running her hand up and down his t-shirt clad back. He’s still staring at the lights.

“Yeah, you probably should,” he replies so quietly she almost misses it.

She takes her hand from his back and he looks at her, gives her half a smile. This time she doesn’t stop him when he shifts to get back inside.

This time they let him lead them and he goes straight to the couch. His eyelids are drooping, so they make a quick work of the bedding and soon he’s nestled between covers. They exchange quick goodnights and go to their rooms: Daisy in Fred’s room, Fred sleeping in Ellie’s.

They all fall asleep fairly quickly, the lights outside going out right before that.

The next morning, Ellie finds Alec sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water. The kids are still sleeping.

“You've managed on your own?” Ellie asks, her voice level. Her first instinct was to berate him, but she stopped herself before she provoked a fight. Alec doesn’t look at her, doesn’t even acknowledge her, he’s just staring at the glass.

“Do you want some breakfast? Lucy will come later to get Fred,” she adds and starts to take the bread, butter and cheese out.

“This is a mistake,” Alec grinds out. “I shouldn't have dropped myself on your head.”

“I get it why you did,” Ellie says carefully, busy with breakfast. “And you didn’t drop yourself on my head, I suggested it and you agreed.”

“It’s too much anyway. I should be at my own place.”

She wonders whether he’s slept at all. It sounds like he spent the night thinking.

“So now your house is fine?” she asks, just to check what he’ll say.

She catches him roll his eyes. She smirks and puts the bread into the toaster. Soon later, she lays a plate with the buttered toast in front of him and goes to make tea.

“You said you knew why I didn’t want to stay there,” Alec says.

“I understand that your ex-wife moving in with you after all is out of question.”

He glares at her for a second, then looks down at his toast. He lifts it carefully and takes a bite.

“I’d rather not have you hate me,” he mutters so quietly she barely catches it. She wonders whether he does it on purpose: says those things, hoping she wouldn’t hear. He’s vulnerable during those moments, with his heart on his sleeve.

“I don’t plan to throw you out no matter how difficult you’re going to be,” she says, still trying to not sound pitying, concerned or berating. “And I’d rather not have you spend hours alone.”

“I’ll be here on my own anyway,” Alec argues. “And if you’re worried about the seizures, you won’t believe how many EEG and CT scans I had during the last two weeks and how many times I was told I’m healed. Will you feel better if I promise to stay away from sharp objects?”

She wants to growl at him.

“I’m more worried about you falling and breaking more bones,” she snaps.

She watches him handle the toast with his left hand. Ellie wonders how he’ll manage with his dominant hand being non-functional for almost two months.

“I can talk to some of those people who stood out there yesterday with torches in hand,” she says after a pause. “I can think of one or two who wouldn’t oppose to check on you once a day.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but she rolls her eyes at him.

“I’m not talking about people you barely know, I’m thinking Beth or Maggie.”

He grimaces.

“Maggie hates me.”

_ Interesting, _ Ellie thinks. His protest is not about his feelings for the journalist, but about hers for him. Or he might be projecting, but Ellie doesn’t think Alec actually hates Maggie. She’s getting on his nerves, sure, but Alec is probably incapable of hating anyone who isn’t a bloodthirsty criminal.

“No, she doesn’t,” she says. “She’s the one who set up that little display yesterday, although she was afraid no-one will turn up, you’re so easy to like,” Ellie quips, sets a mug of tea in front of him and sits down opposite him with her own breakfast.

Ellie wonders how many people were surprised by the yesterday’s crowd. Probably all of the participants. They still came.

Alec sends her one of the familiar exasperated looks. She can’t help but smile at this.

“I need to watch that YouTube channel of hers, better keep an eye on what she puts there,” Alec murmurs.

“She thinks you hate her,” Ellie reveals.

Alec rolls his eyes.

“No, I don’t. I just hate what she represents sometimes.”

_ Not surprising at all, _ Ellie thinks.

They eat in silence for a while.

“You sure about returning to your place?” she asks when they’re finished.

“Yeah. Slept on it already.”

She’s not sure what to think about his decision. On one hand, she’s almost relieved, because with their personalities, Alec’s vulnerability and his reaction to be holed up in an unfamiliar house, there’s a high chance they’d kill each other by week two. On the other, she’s going to worry about him. She will, anyway, but with him at her home she has better access to him.

She takes a deep breath.

“Alright. I’ll ask Nish to give back your SIM card, your phone was broken beyond repair. Today’s Thursday, so you have until Sunday to buy yourself a new phone. I’ll borrow you my phone for today, you’re to have it with you all the time, I’ll be checking up on you—”

“Miller…”

“If you don’t answer or call me back within five minutes after my call, I’ll come here and kick your arse.”

His mouth closes with a click of his teeth.

“Anything happens, you fall, can’t move, you call me, do you understand?” she adds.

He nods meekly.

“Use my phone to look for a new one for yourself,” Ellie continues. “Think about buying one of those smartwatches, too, so you won’t have to carry the phone with you.”

“Miller…” he tries again, slightly whiny.

“Tom can help you choose later if you want. He’s already helped you with the sport camera, hasn’t he?”

Hardy huffs.

“So, you’re not going to stop me from moving to my house?” he ascertains.

“First, I need to see that you can manage on your own. You still need a phone and someone to help you during the day. Whether you’ll stay here or at your place will be decided on the weekend.”

He frowns and Ellie can see he really wants to argue, but then he gives up.

She wonders whether his compliance is due to the fact he has two limbs broken and can’t move on his own farther than maybe three or four steps. If it was only his leg or only his arm broken, it wouldn’t be much of a problem, she wouldn’t even argue against him doing desk job. Sure, he managed to walk from the living room to the kitchen and get himself a glass of water, which is the only reason she's even considering letting him return to his house. He’s still fresh out of the hospital, though, weak and somewhat disorientated by the new situation. The risk of seizures, as microscopic as it is, still rings at the back of her mind. There’s no easy way out of this situation.

* * *

Daisy is told about her father’s plan during breakfast and she visibly doesn’t know what to do, so she accepts it and only rolls her eyes when Hardy tells her to not tell Tess.

The day goes smoothly. Hardy answers the phone every time Ellie calls, he dutifully reports his activities and doesn’t even sound too exasperated about having to do that. He manages to fix himself lunch and dinner from the leftovers in the fridge, and moves between the garden, the living room and the bathroom without falling. He researched for a new phone and already ordered one, along with one of the cheapest smartwatches he could find. When they all get back to the house in the afternoon, Hardy is safe and sound on the couch, his broken leg propped up on the table; he’s reading a book on the Kindle Beth borrowed him when she came by during the day. The e-book reader is much easier to handle with only one hand functional than a paper book; Beth uploaded thousands of books on it, so Hardy found something interesting for himself without much trouble.

So, Hardy’s first day alone out of the hospital is a success. He looks tired, though, so he allows Daisy to help him move around, not-so-secretly glad of the little respite. Fred tries to get his attention again and to the boy’s delight, Hardy agrees to some reading; he has quite a few children’s books on the Kindle and puts one of them to use while Ellie prepares them supper.

When they’re eating, Hardy comments on the fact that his portion contains salad.

“What did I do to deserve this?” he asks with that rare smile of his as he impales a piece of cucumber on the fork.

“You’ll get fish and chips next time,” Ellie threatens without much heat. Hardy bites off the piece of cucumber with a very satisfied grin and she can’t help but laugh at the sight.

When Fred goes to sleep and the teenagers get to deal with their homework, Ellie plants herself next to Hardy on the couch with mugs of chamomile tea for both of them. TV’s on, Hardy’s watching the program with his glasses perched on his nose.

“Do you still want to move to your house?” she asks quietly.

“Do you still consider allowing me to?” he asks back, not looking at her.

Ellie shrugs.

“We’ll see how tomorrow goes.”

“Well, thank you very much,” he replies without heat.

She takes a deep breath and she can see him tensing, like he knows he won’t like the next thing she says.

“Why didn’t you want Tess to take care of you?” she asks.

He glances at her and relaxes. Apparently he expected something else.

He shifts slightly on the couch, glances towards the door, making sure they’re alone.

“When I returned to Sandbrook, I wanted to reconcile with her, you know?” he admits and Ellie almost holds her breath. She didn’t expect him to actually answer, much less in a way that suggests a longer story. “I got back some of my custody of Daisy without much fight, we spent some time together, me and Tess, we were civil at work, but…” he pauses, puts the mug with tea on the table and uses his hand to scratch his head in this little tic of his that shows he’s mentally uncomfortable. He’s looking everywhere but at her. “It took me weeks to realise I wouldn’t get Tess back, no matter what I did. Months to just, sort of… come to terms with it. Then Daisy started arguing with her, I still don’t know why, and she moved in with me. Tess just gave her up, Daisy hated her, I needed to get away from that cursed town. Something drew me back here, despite everything that reminded me of some of the worst moments of my life.”

He pauses again and Ellie feels her eyes fill with tears.

“It’s not so bad, though,” he continues, glances at her for the first time and gives her a small smile. “I hoped to put everything Sandbrook-related behind me. And then Tess suggested she’d stay at my place and play nurse.” He shrugs. “It’s not that I hate her. Losing her cost me too much and I was afraid I’d start hoping we’d be together again, you know? And I don’t want to risk it.”

“Yeah,” Ellie chokes out.

_ Damn it, the knob, _ she thinks. Damn it, this socially awkward Scottish twig that would die for a case and loves with all his no-longer-broken heart to not only the bitter end, but to death, because she knows he still loves Tess, despite everything she’s done to him. Damn it, Mr Stay Detached for caring so damn much and even though he keeps telling her to stop caring, he does exactly the same, only shows it differently.

She’s reminded of the time she thought he was transparent. Back then she could read his reaction to a case like from an open book. This time, as he looks at her, as he tells her what is probably one of the deepest hidden secrets, she sees something else: love and gratefulness, mixed with the desperate need to cling to the normality of life.

She promises herself she’ll help him be as normal as possible. It’s the least he deserves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was reminded that Hardy's given up being nice after I wrote this chapter, so I hope he's not too nice/OOC here.  
> Also, I might be a member of health service, but I've never had epilepsy and/or broken limbs and I'm too lazy to research them properly, so sorry if there are any inconsistencies. ;)


	6. Domestic

Ellie soon realises that the control Alec had over his body while running is now useful in daily life with two broken limbs. Months of training made him stronger than average and two days after leaving the hospital he’s able to hop from room to room on one leg while supporting himself with his healthy hand against a wall, and not even be out of breath when he reaches his destination.

On Friday morning she gives him back his laptop, although he shows no interest in using it; she also borrows him an old phone and inserts his own SIM card into it, so she can take her phone with her to work. She still calls him every two hours and he always picks up. Beth visits him again, spends half an hour chatting and soon reports to Ellie how civil he’s capable of being.

“He’s always civil, more or less,” Ellie says.

“Yeah, but I really wouldn’t take him for a guy you can talk about your children with!”

“Daisy is his pride and joy, she’s also friends with Chloe. What exactly did you expect?”

Beth can’t answer that, and since she knows Hardy will be moving back to his house soon, she declares she’ll visit him there, too. They can bond over children and jogging; Beth reckons that now the town inhabitants have established that Hardy’s one of them, someone should get to know him better, beside Ellie, and Hardy doesn’t seem to be opposed to that.

Hardy’s new phone and the smartwatch are delivered in the afternoon, so when they get back from work and school, they find Hardy trying to insert his SIM card into the phone while being utterly frustrated, because it’s the first time he really feels he needs both of his hands.

Tom is very happy to help him set up both devices.

During dinner that evening it’s decided Hardy will indeed move back to his house. With the means to call for help if necessary, a visit from someone once a day and his current mobility, he should be able to handle the recovery time on his own. Also, his house has only one floor, so there are no stairs to scale, which helps. He won’t be sleeping on the couch, but in his own bed.

Ellie doesn’t comment the look of victory on his face when it’s decided.

The only problematic thing is cooking, but Daisy declares she will handle that. The look of victory on Hardy’s face is replaced by a theatrical horror and he gets a smack on his shoulder for that from his daughter.

It’s the first time Ellie’s ever heard him giggle. It’s quickly drowned by Fred’s laughter at the sight of Alec’s face, but it was definitely there and Ellie regrets she didn’t record that.

He’s opened up, she realises, or put on a cheerful face to hide how he exactly feels about his current state, which is the exact opposite of opening up, but only shows he’s capable of that. He knows how to be open and playful, no matter how much acting it requires on his part, which is also quite amazing considering how hopeless a liar he is.

It’s weird and different, she doesn’t want him to stop, though. She likes him this way and wants to see how long it will last. She feels privileged to be one of the very few people allowed to see this side of him; it also makes him much easier to handle than she expected.

* * *

Alec and Daisy move back to Hardy’s house on Sunday, with Ellie’s help. Daisy came here on Saturday to air it and restock the fridge, so everything’s prepared for their arrival. Now the girl sets out to heat the pre-made pasta she bought yesterday, with Alec’s guidance, as she can do barely anything in the kitchen.

“So, how is it going to look?” Ellie asks her as she sets the plates on the table. “You have a lot to learn. I don’t cook much, either, but at least I know how to use the stove.”

“Beth and Maggie agreed to do some groceries from time to time,” Alec says as he watches them bustle about his kitchen. “Daisy will have to learn to cook dishes that can last us a few days and I can eat them with only one hand, so I think that in the next six weeks she’ll become a master of pastas and stews.”

“I promise to include salads every now and then,” Daisy says as she watches the oven.

“I’ll keep an eye on you and guide you ruthlessly,” Alec declares, his tone light. “And when it’s over, I’ll cook you a proper meal.”

“You can cook?” Ellie asks, then she remembers the meal he made them when Alec was still living in the tiny blue house by the river. That one was pretty simple, though, not saying much about his abilities.

“Yeah, dad’s pretty good,” Daisy confirms with a nod. “Hence his ruthless guidance.”

“I’ll take your word for that,” Ellie replies cheerfully and she really can’t wait.

* * *

She doesn’t really register the flow of time during the next six weeks, they live from day to day. Ellie visits Alec every day, either at lunch or after work. She finds him on the couch most often, reading a book or watching TV, or in the kitchen. She makes them tea, sometimes reheats his food so he can eat it properly, they sit at the table and talk about the everyday life: their children, some cases. On weekends, Ellie helps with cleaning, mostly doing laundry; Alec stops protesting after the first two weeks. Daisy masters her cooking skills under Alec’s watchful eye and everything she makes is actually edible. Ellie brings her sons in on weekends, so the five of them can spend hours together. Fred bonds easily with Alec, who can’t run away from reading to him, but also doesn’t treat those moments as a hardship, he puts some passion into it, doing voices and funny facial expressions, to the little boy’s delight. Tom doesn’t argue over coming here, too, although he was initially reluctant spending hours at the place of a man who had arrested his father. Hardy doesn’t drive Beth and Maggie away, too, and the two women soon stop being astonished by the simple friendliness he shows them. He’s more wary around the journalist, but Maggie keeps her word and doesn’t mention his private life on her vlog.

Hardy is no longer forcefully cheerful, some of his gloominess returns quite quickly, but he’s not rude or hostile, so Ellie easily deals with his typical, broody persona. It’s much easier than during their ‘daily’ life solving cases, and not because they’re together for a shorter period every day, but because Alec still bottles up most of his negative emotions. Ellie wonders when - and if - he’ll explode. She enjoys this version of him as much as she can for now and helps him, because she’s well aware he’s bottling it up for her. She’s caught him watching her often enough.

She also keeps touching him, making it look accidental. A brush of a hand here and there, mostly his hand when she passes him something, or his back when she walks past. He doesn't comment on it, but she quickly notices he's started doing the same to her. She also doesn't say anything about that. The only time when he reacts is when she makes sure he knows it's not accidental: she's ruffled his hair probably far too many times and he always reacts with an 'Oi!', but it sounds only mildly irritated, not outraged, so she doesn't stop. He has great hair, though. She's shamelessly taking advantage of him opening his personal space to her.

Ellie expected a crisis. She genuinely thought that one day she’d find Alec sitting among the rubble of his living room, his left hand buried in his too long hair, him growling with frustration. She doesn’t, Daisy also doesn’t show that something’s wrong with her father, so he somehow manages to keep himself sane, although it can’t be easy.

* * *

One day at lunch, three weeks into his domestic recovery time, five weeks after the accident, she has some news for him:

“Your would-be killers are going to plead guilty on the murder attempt,” she says when they’re settled with tea in the living room.

He freezes.

“Really?” he says after a few seconds of silence, his tone carefully disinterested. “They won’t try to go for a hit-and-run?”

“We have their confessions on tape, they admitted to targeting you specifically. They didn’t manage to get a proper solicitor, so they don’t have much chance of going free.”

He raises his left eyebrow at her, demanding more explanation. Ellie sighs.

“Have you heard of August Hutchinson from Phelps Constructions?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Alec admits, suddenly wary. “Are you telling me they were working for him?”

“Not on his orders, but they’re connected. Our drug dealers before that were, too. We talked to Hutchinson, he’s not going to support them.”

Hardy deflates slightly.

“That’s his style. None of the small criminals in the area work for him directly and when they get caught, they’re left on their own. ‘It’s their own fault,’ as he probably likes to claim.”

Ellie nods.

“So you really have a criminal overlord in the Sandbrook area.”

“It’s the kind of a man you can’t touch unless he makes a solid mistake, and he’s too smart for that.”

“Must be frustrating.”

Alec shrugs.

“It’s one of the things you have to learn to live with. Hutchinson isn’t into heavy crime, he likes to keep it impersonal, you know? Nothing the criminal has to face another person with. No extortions, no murders, just some theft and drug dealing.”

“But why can’t you touch him if you know all of this?”

“Because we have no solid evidence of his involvement and when you try to go against him, it starts being personal. With a half of the criminals in the area working for him, you don’t get the warning signs before they try to run you over. He’s old, you know, he inherited that crime syndicate. There were stories.”

She can guess how they went. A police officer forced to move out of the area, if it went well. Probably some blackmail so well done there was no-one to put behind bars. Threatening phone calls, some weird noises in the dark.

Alec doesn’t look like a victim, Tess was moderately relaxed around the man, too. Hutchinson’s activities are probably one of the things you know you’re not allowed to touch.

Ellie glances at Alec, slouched on the couch, his hair getting out of control, his three week-old beard covering his pale cheeks, and she thinks they’ve gotten closer to each other than they did during months of working together. They see each other for maybe an hour every day, but the different setting - them being at his home and the meetings being purely social - makes it more intimate. Alec’s still more open, too, like he’s let her in fully, his armour stripped away, a suit exchanged for comfy sweats and t-shirts.

“Do you need help shaving?” she blurts out and he looks at her, eyes wide in surprise. He scratches his cheek.

“You don’t like my hipstery look?”

She grimaces.

“Is that what you’re aiming for?” she asks, her voice dripping with doubt.

He smiles.

“No. You want to shave me?”

“Your beard. You are miserable enough, soon you’ll be looking like a homeless person.”

"I'm not..." he starts to argue, then deflates.  “Good thing I have an electric shaver, you won’t manage to cut my throat with it,” he says and rises slowly from the couch.

She knows he can to it by himself, so she doesn’t help him.

“What? You’re going to let me?” she asks, astonished.

“You suggested it, Daisy also hates the beard and I’m not brave enough to ask her,” he replies and starts limping towards the bathroom.

She follows him, but then she has sudden doubts. Helping her boss - her friend - shave his far too long beard is a new level of their ‘relationship’. She suggested it though, and he agreed without any argument. She will see where it will lead them.

“Clean or leave a scruff?” she asks when they have everything set, the shaving cream, the shaver and a towel. He’s sitting on the toilet lid and tries to keep his broken leg out of the way.

“The times of me being clean-shaved are long gone,” he replies theatrically and she snorts.

“Too bad. If you ever show up without the stubble, I probably won’t recognise you.”

She makes a quick work on his beard and soon he starts to resemble himself again.

She stares at him for a few seconds after his face is cleaned of the rest of the cream, until he clears his throat.

“Thanks,” he mumbles. “Don’t you have work to get back to?”

That shakes her out of her reverie and she nods. She doesn’t roll her eyes at him; she can understand why he’s deflecting now: they got too close and it’s startling for both of them.

She puts away his shaving supplies.

“See you tomorrow,” she says and practically runs from his house. When she gets to the CID, she can barely focus for the rest of the day; she still sees his scruff-covered cheeks, the freckles and his eyes: large and warm.

* * *

The call she receives on one mid-November Wednesday afternoon takes her by surprise.

“Are you busy?” Alec asks on the phone. “Can you finish earlier?”

Ellie’s startled. She looks around the floor in the CID. It’s been calm lately, their caseload being the typical petty theft and a couple of break-ins.

“I think so, why?”

“Can you come to the hospital?” Alec asks and despite his light tone she feels the blood freeze in her veins.

“Why? What happened?”

“Nothing happened, I just need you at the hospital. I’m fine. So, can you come?”

“Why?” she repeats with more emphasis.

She can imagine him rolling his eyes.

“I just need you to pick me up,” he drawls. “It’s nothing like the pacemaker surgery, I promise.”

She huffs, agrees to come and disconnects the call.

She’s at the hospital a half an hour later, imagining all sorts of different scenarios on the way. She’s quickly directed to a room in Surgery Ward and she wants to scream at Hardy until she sees it’s not ICU, it’s just a simple treatment room, with the door slightly ajar, people aren’t rushing about.

She frowns and stops by the door.  _ Is this a scheduled appointment? _

From the office comes the doctor’s voice:

“Remember when you first started running after the surgery, you were told to start slow. I’m afraid you’re back to that point.”

“That’s fine,” Alec’s voice replies. “As long as I can move at all.”

Ellie peeks in. Alec is sitting on the gurney, dressed in dark jeans, sneakers, a polo shirt and a dark blue jumper. His dark grey winter coat and a backpack lie beside him. The doctor examines his right hand, checking the movement of his wrist.

Alec no longer has plaster casts on his leg and arm. Ellie stifles a gasp.  _ So this is a scheduled appointment! _ She forgot it would be time for the casts to come off.

“I can’t stress enough how much the fact you exercised before the accident helped during your recovery,” the doctor says. “I know it’s hard to believe…”

“It’s not, really,” Alec cuts in.

“What about your seizures?”

“I was taking the meds and nothing happened, I ran out of them two weeks ago, still nothing,” Alec shrugs.

The doctor nods, lets go of his hand and walks towards the door. Ellie stops hiding; she gives the doctor a nod and steps into the room as Alec stands up slowly from the gurney and very carefully puts his weight on his now healed left leg. He wobbles a little, then gets his balance back and straightens.

“Wow. I’ve forgotten how tall you are,” Ellie says. Alec looks at her and gives her a small smile. He puts on his coat and the backpack, now probably containing his home sweats. What he’s wearing now is more presentable, office casual style.

She notices how thin is his right hand, the bones of his wrist more prominent than before the accident. Alec’s always thin, Daisy didn’t manage to fatten him up, but two months with no movement really imprinted on him.

“How did you get here?” Ellie asks.

“Beth drove me,” Alec replies and walks towards her.

He’s lost some control over his body, she notices. His steps are careful, but she can’t really blame him after six weeks of limping heavily, preceded by two weeks of lying in a hospital bed.

She wants to hug him. Seeing him walking on his own almost brings tears into her eyes. She still sometimes wakes up from a nightmare where she sees him lying unconscious in the hospital bed, the doctors telling her he’s dying. He’s here now, alive and walking, healthy again, so tall and thin. His eyes are warm, he's smiling softly.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” she asks when he reaches her. She looks up at his face; she barely manages to keep the emotions out of her voice.

“No, I want you to go with me for fish and chips,” he replies, looking at her.

“Celebratory?” Ellie asks with a smile.

“Yeah.”

She nods and they walk through the hospital corridor towards the exit.

“You promised us a proper meal once your hand’s free,” she reminds him.

“Saturday at six. Bring Tom, Fred and couple of chairs,” he says, pushes the door with his right, oh so bony hand and they step outside.

They walk, now that they can. It’s cold, but Alec is in no hurry to get back to the white house halfway up the hill. Alec buys them fish and chips, and they eat it while they walk on the beach and under the cliffs. They sit on some dry spot of sand and enjoy their unhealthy meal.

“So, you’re back to jogging first thing tomorrow morning?” Ellie asks with a teasing smile.

“Probably some exercise at home first,” Alec sighs. “I’d probably fall over if I tried running now.”

“Wonder if Beth will report to me about you returning to your routes,” Ellie murmurs.

Alec smiles. She glances at him from time to time as they eat in the cold November breeze; she uses the opportunity to study him again and for some reason he doesn’t comment on it. She’s got used to his face during the last two months, but every time she really looks at him, she discovers something new.

Like, right now. It’s actually the first time she’s seen him in a cold environment, so the redness of his nose and ears is new and endearing. He doesn’t have a scarf, he just zips his coat right up to his mouth.

An image flashes in her mind, of her and him, sitting opposite each other, and her using her fingers to touch every feature of his face: the crooked nose, his expressive eyebrows, the laugh lines, the sharp cheekbones, his jawline, his ears; she imagines herself running her fingers through his hair properly, not a ruffle for fun.

She imagines him doing the same to her.

Why does she think about it? They’re still friends, right? When did she start dreaming about being more to him, of him being more to her? Is that what she wants?

Is it because the last two months gave her the insight of his private personality? She’s known him a little from this side before, but they’ve never spent two months doing everything but work together. She shaved him, made his laundry, supported him; she saw him have fun with Fred. She saw him cry. She heard him talking about his love to Tess.

She sat by him and stared at his face, and he didn’t say anything, didn’t shut her out.

He let her in. Maybe this is something he wants, too.

She’s startled back to reality when she sees his right hand in front of her face: she didn’t notice when he stood up and now he’s offering to help her do the same.

She grabs the bony fingers, but stands up mostly on her own.

They face each other and Hardy gives her the same smile he did when they were saying goodbye to each other after they’d solved the Gillespie case. Only this time it isn’t a goodbye and Alec doesn’t wipe it off his face once he realises he’s smiling.

It takes two seconds for Ellie to notice she’s still holding his hand. She lets go of it slowly, reluctantly.

“When we’ll see you back at work?” she asks.

“I have the medical first thing in the Monday morning, so either right after that or on Tuesday,” he replies and they slowly head for his house. The lights are on, so Daisy must’ve returned from school; judging by the lack of frantic calls to Alec’s phone, Ellie was the last person in their little circle to learn about the ‘casts-off day’.

She could be angry about it, but then she was the one invited to fish and chips at the beach.

“So, Saturday at six?” she ascertains and Hardy nods.

They separate at the foot of the hill. She watches him for a short while as he climbs the concrete stairs to his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone asks: last chappie tomorrow.  
> Feel free to comment ;)


	7. Celebration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry in advance for maybe making Alec a little bit too much David Tennant-y ;)

Ellie expects a little affair at Alec’s and is surprised to see that the house on the hill is practically crowded: Beth is here with her two daughters, and Maggie with Jocelyn. Fred runs to Lizzie and soon they’re both sitting in the corner of the living room, playing with wooden bricks, and Ellie has no idea where the toys came from. She passes Daisy the bottle of wine she brought, jumps aside for Chloe carrying a platter to the table and goes to the kitchen to find Alec busy with the last dinner preparations.

There’s already a small feast set out on the table in the living room, with salads, garlic bread and small nibbles, jugs of juice and two other wine bottles. Alec handles the roast, chips and potatoes with surprising ease. She realises she has no idea how used he is to cooking for multiple people, but now, in this kitchen, he’s in his element.

Ellie notices he’s managed to go to a hairdresser, his hair about as short and trimmed as it was before the accident. He also shows some of his old grace as he carries the ovenware with the roast to the table while calling to everyone to sit down. He gives her a smile when he sees her; she didn’t manage to announce her arrival before, as it was loud already with the conversations and music.

When everyone is seated, Alec pours everyone of age some wine and starts to part the roast like a gracious host.

“This is seriously the last thing I’d expect you to be able to do,” Beth says as she waits for her plate to be returned.

“Why, I’m a single father trying to stay healthy, I should know how to cook?” Alec replies with a raised eyebrow.

“You lived in a hotel for months,” Beth reminds him and accepts her plate.

Alec shrugs and reaches for Maggie’s plate.

“Then I moved to a tiny house with a shitty kitchen. My cooking skills just remained dormant. Today’s a good occasion to put them into good use, though, I’d say.”

Maggie agrees with enthusiasm, watching him put a large piece of the perfect roast on her plate. She takes her plate and passes him Jocelyn’s.

“This is a proper party, though!” Ellie exclaims, waving a little with the wine glass held in one hand. “Only three years ago you had no idea how to participate in things like this!”

Alec glances at her across the table, surely reminded of the dinner at her place during Danny’s case.

“He’s at his own home, this is different!” Maggie protests.

Alec quirks an eyebrow at the journalist.

“I’ve also spent six weeks reading,” he replies dryly, taking Chloe’s and Tom’s plates to be filled. “By the way, Beth, your Kindle saved my sanity, I’m buying one for myself.”

“You’re welcome,” Beth replies with a wide smile, clearly enjoying this new side of Hardy.

“You’ve been reading about improving social skills? Who are you and what have you done to Alec Hardy?” Ellie demands. The gathered people laugh.

“Yeah, well, you’ve got me,” Alec rolls his eyes and waves at Ellie to give him her plate. Ellie watches the measured movements of his hands over the table.

“How much of a secret is this side of you, DI Hardy?” Maggie asks as she helps herself to potatoes and a salad.

“Top secret,” he replies lightly, raising his eyebrows and finally serving himself and Daisy the roast. Lizzie and Fred already got their fair share of chips from Beth. “It’s not allowed to leave this house. Mind you, I’m a detective, I’m pretty familiar with the perfect crime theory.”

They laugh again.

They don’t do toasts, they just enjoy the proper meal, as Hardy promised them. Alec isn’t much bothered with small talk, he has six women here to do it for him. As open as he is now, he gracefully avoids some of the more personal topics, like his health. The evening in itself is very pleasant for all of them and Alec looks as relaxed as possible in his own home, participating in the chat and glancing at Ellie from time to time, more often than not catching her watching him with a soft smile.

Maggie and Jocelyn leave first. Ellie declares she’ll help with the cleaning up and Alec doesn’t protest. Beth leaves soon after that with Tom, Fred and Lizzie, sans toys, so they must be Alec’s, and Ellie can’t help but wonder what does he need brick toys for. She hasn’t seen them before and she certainly didn’t bring them here herself.

Daisy helps a little in the kitchen and then leans towards her father’s ear and whispers:

“Text me when it’s done.”

Alec raises his eyebrow at her and Ellie tries very hard to not overhear:

“Be prepared to spend the night not in your bedroom,” he mutters.

Daisy smiles widely.

“I'm sure Chloe and Mrs Latimer will let me sleep over,” she says and Alec rolls his eyes at her.

Daisy and Chloe leave together soon after that. Ellie doesn’t want to think what the conversation was about.

Ellie realises she’s left alone with Alec only when they’re done in the kitchen, dishes washed and dried, leftovers put in the fridge and both of them just notice the silence in the house.

She glances at him.

“Wine?” he asks, not looking at her, suddenly he seems almost awkward. She nods. He pours the rest of the wine - red, semi-dry, good vintage - between them, gives her the glass and goes to the living room to flop down on the couch.

She hesitates for two seconds and goes after him; she plants herself next to him, not touching, but also not separating herself on the other side of the couch.

“Beth’s Kindle isn’t the only thing that kept me sane,” he says, voice quiet and warm. He’s not looking at her, he’s leaning forward, with elbows on his knees. “Thank you,” he adds with a quick glance at her before she can feign ignorance on what he means.

She toasts him and nods.

“You’re welcome, but that’s friends for you, isn’t it? You’d do the same for me.”

“Yeah,” he agrees without hesitation and she feels a weird tingle in her stomach.

“So, back to normal then?” she says after a short moment of silence. She leans against the backrest of the couch. “Limbs free, back to work soon… The learnt social skills can be put away…”

He snorts at the last one and glances at her out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m always myself with you,” he declares and the tingle only grows stronger.

“Did you really read about improving social skills?”

“No,” he replies, deadpan. She has to laugh at that. Then, he softens. “And today… I really enjoyed it.”

“I could tell,” she replies and she means it. Alec is deeply introverted and everyone knows that, but today his hospitality was genuine. This dinner was his thanks to all of them for helping him and they knew that. “Speaking of social skills, maybe with them you could try your luck on Tinder again,” Ellie adds, just to break some of the tension she feels is growing between them.

Alec turns to her properly, looks into her eyes and asks:

“You want me to try Tinder again?”

There’s something in his voice that makes her freeze for a second. She takes a sip of her wine and wonders whether she reads him right. It's her third glass tonight and she feels mellow but not drunk enough to imagine things, and she's sure he just gave her an opening. It's now or never, she can regret it later.

“No,” she replies.

She wishes he was transparent again; his face is serious, but his eyes aren’t ‘dead’ like when he talks to potential witnesses or suspects. There’s something in them and Ellie starts to feel she’s drowning in those chocolate-brown orbs she’s dreamed about so many times recently.

_ I want to study your face all I want and not be ashamed,  _ she thinks and doesn’t dare to say it out loud. Not yet.

He’s still sitting there, a hand’s width away, looking at her and not saying a word, not even drinking his wine. She tries to remember how much has he drunk today and she thinks maybe one glass other than the one in his hand? She’s sure he’s far more sober than her.

“Did Tess find out you moved here anyway?” she blurts out.

Alec’s still looking at her, although he drinks a sip of his wine.

“Yeah, after the first week. She came over to yours to visit, didn't find me, called me, yelled at me for lying to her and hasn't spoken to me since.”

Ellie winces.

“Did you tell her why you didn’t want her playing nurse?”

“She wasn't interested in my reasons,” Alec shrugs. “That's fine, though. I can finally move on.”

Ellie breathes in sharply. Another opening for her to use, although she starts to doubt whether she really isn’t imagining things right now. She’s almost certain she will regret later what she says then:

“I hope she realises one day what she's lost,” she mutters. She can only blame the wine for being able to say it out loud at all. “You're loyal to a fault, it's so precious! I wish I had something like this, not a memory of a paedophile husband.”

“You could,” Alec says so quietly she almost doesn’t catch it. He looks down for a second, suddenly shy, then looks into her eyes again.

_ Oh my God. _

It’s not even a hint anymore. He’s really inviting her. He’s taken his step, now it’s her turn to either meet him in the middle or run away.

_ Fuck it,  _ Ellie thinks.

“You know, those first hours after your accident, when we didn't know whether you'd survive, they were some of the worst moments of my life, about as bad as when you told me that Joe had killed Danny,” she says. Alec’s still looking at her, the wine in his hand almost forgotten. Ellie can’t stop now. “There you were, in the hospital bed, probably dying, and I could only think how you’d been the only person who'd talk to me when my best friend loathed me, who would distract me, see me as someone other than the murderer’s wife whose anger let the murderer go free, show me there’s a reason we do this. I was scared shitless for you.”

“Ellie…”

She puts her glass on the table and wipes her tears away.

“I couldn’t imagine losing you, you goddamn knob, and I hated you for this, hated you for making me care about you. I hate you, and you’re here, still my boss and my best friend who’s seen my at my lowest.”

“Ellie…” Alec repeats and it sounds like a whine. His glass is on the table already and he turned towards her, he’s sitting with one leg bent on the couch, the foot of the other on the floor, his hands on his lap twitching uncomfortably like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

“And this?” she continues and hears herself raise her voice as she’s simply unable to stop the flow of words anymore, she doesn’t care whether they make much sense. “Whatever is happening here between us, this is new, this is terrifying, but I know that you’ll be able to take anything I’ll throw at you, and you won’t be ever able to push me away and damn I’m so scared that we ended up at this point, but I’ve seen you in that hospital bed, seen you here, just now, among my own friends and I care about you and being just your friend is not enough anymore.”

Alec is staring at her, mouth open in shock. There’s something weird in his eyes, he’s not repulsed by her outburst. His posture is open.

Ellie sniffs. She’s deflated; if she says anything more she’ll be ripping her heart out of her chest and Alec hasn’t even reacted in any unambiguous way.

Suddenly, Ellie understands what’s in his eyes: something she’s both happy and afraid to see, and even more afraid to name, because there’s no going back now.

“I think I want one of your hugs now,” she says and he gives her a short, startled laugh.

Then, he closes the space between them and soon there are his wiry arms around her shoulders, his big hands on her back and she’s smelling his scent of good quality cologne mixed with the kitchen smells and wine. She hugs him back, leans her head on his shoulder and she can feel the sharp bristles of his beard scratch at her forehead.

_ Daisy was right, his hugs are the best,  _ she thinks. He’s really warm and comfortable. She wants to stay like this forever.

He moves slightly and she feels the lightest touch of his lips on her hair, his arms around her tightening.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me,” he whispers. “I’m not afraid,” he adds, quiet like a breath, but he knows she can hear him this time.

And then she understands something very important: for the last two months, it wasn’t just her seeing a new side of him. He was actively reaching out to her the whole time, showing her how important she is to him when he preferred to stay at her home to get over his ex-wife, when he asked her to pick him up from the hospital after his casts were off, when he took her to fish and chips, just the two of them. When he allowed her to stop him from running away from the lights display after he was discharged from the hospital. When he listened to her during his recovery and followed the doctor’s orders.

When he didn’t comment on her touching him, like he didn’t want to spook her into stopping.

When he put his heart on his sleeve just for her to see.

She lifts her head to look him in the eye.

“So, we’re really doing this,” she says.

She expects him to reflect the hidden question at her.

“I think we are,” he says instead and moves his hands from her back to the sides of her face, caressing her with his thumbs, studying her.

“Good,” she chokes out and three seconds later she discovers his kisses are even better than his hugs.

And it’s like coming home after years of absence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! Thank you for the journey, please, PLEASE let me know what you think. The worst thing that can happen to a writer is be excited about a chapter and then get next to no reaction from their readers.


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